


Bet-And-Switch

by MercuryMapleKey



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 10:45:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16094072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryMapleKey/pseuds/MercuryMapleKey
Summary: What's better than this? Just bros being bros, just guys being dudes, just two idiots bullying each other at the local gym.





	Bet-And-Switch

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that was born out of a conversation i had with ribbonelle honest to god 3 years ago and then i wrote 500 words and promptly forgot about it until now.   
> but the premise was good. So i dusted it off and finished it. And then didn't do a final edit because it's 3 fucking years old already. So apologies for that. This isn't even gay. Why didn't I make it more gay?

It’s late when they pass by the sentry on duty at Training Facility Beta. Not unusual, it always seems to be a late night these cycles. And not unusual either that the guard is nearly slipping into his stasis routine. Ironhide extends his typical country bot friendliness to the mech anyways as Wasp scans his ID chip, granting them access to the quiet facility. They’ve got work to do.

 

“Three hundred.”

“That’s a bold claim.”

“Y’think I can’t do it?” Ironhide grinned – a smug and wide smile that only brought more attention to the dimple in his cheekplating. Three hundred was an obscene amount of pushups to do all at once. But it was an obscene amount that Ironhide thought he was perfectly capable of doing; Wasp could tell.

“You think I’m gonna make this easy for you?” Wasp met the challenge coolly, passing a cursory glance across the training room. There weren’t many mechs around at this time in the nightcycle. There never was, and not without reason, it was too late to be convenient for anyone.

Ironhide shrugged, “I’m not counting on it.” he admitted, dropping down to the floor anyways to situate himself in plank position. Wasp took the cue and sat down on Ironhide’s back with what could have been a sigh if he wasn’t smiling too. Something about that natural grin of Ironhide’s, it made flashing back his own sharp smile almost instinctive.

“You’re twisting your elbow too much again.” Wasp crossed his legs to shift his full weight onto Ironhide while the mech revised his stance. “Your arms are gonna lock up before you even get halfway.”

“Yeah?” By now, Ironhide had already started, launching through the first few reps with an admittedly impressive ease. “Well when they don’t that’s gonna be another win for me.”

Another win. They had been playing this stupid game together since boot camp, since the first days of training now so far away that Ironhide was being sent on missions with the Elite Guard and Wasp had cadets of his own to train. They were stupid competitions, most of the time: tests of strength, endurance, and speed that were ultimately pointless except for the fact that Ironhide won at least twice as often as Wasp figured he should have. Nothing had changed. Ironhide was on call for the Elite Guard, Wasp was working his way up the ranks of Autobot Command, and they actually had to schedule time off some days just to hang out – but Ironhide still won way more often than he should have.

Well not tonight. There was no way in the pit Wasp was letting him get away with it again this time.

“You countin’?” The question was as casual as it came. No struggle or strain in Ironhide’s voice. Wasp frowned and thought over his options.

“Thirty-six. Keep going.” Experimentally Wasp leaned forward, resting his arms on the crest of Ironhide’s helm. He shifted his weight into his arms, pressing further into the movement until his paint threatened to scratch and then lurched back swiftly, returning his arms to cross back over his chest again and hopefully throwing off the equilibrium enough for Ironhide to stumble. It was a test of course. To make sure Ironhide was working off a strong base – Wasp did a similar thing with the cadets.

But Ironhide didn’t lose his balance even for a nanoklik. He just moved through forty-two and forty-three with a chuckle at Wasp’s failed attempt at sabotage.

Well he wouldn’t be laughing for long. The next ploy required surprise, but Wasp had time to wait. Through the fifties, through the sixties; Wasp didn’t really expect Ironhide to slow down anytime soon, not without some help at least.

“Alright, you’re at a hundred, but if you don’t start to pace yourself you’re gonna burn out before you hit the halfway mark.” Wasp warned after a few kliks of silence. He didn’t really try to hide how fixated his gaze had become on Ironhide’s shoulders in the interim, but he didn’t really need to. The mech couldn’t see what he was doing from down there anyways, and that was something Wasp was counting on.

“Pace myself? I can’t even feel it yet.” Ironhide lied, pushing himself off the floor once more. He _had_ to be lying. Wasp used the distraction to quietly transform one of his stingers out from his servo.

“Yeah, keep pulling my drivetrain.” He took aim casually, a sharp sting to Ironhide’s left arm would be enough to do it. “I can feel you shaking already.”

But Ironhide wasn’t shaking, he was tessellating. Silver alloy stretching across his upper body mere nanokliks before Wasp made the shot and rendering the big idiot entirely immune.

Wasp scowled. Ironhide laughed.

“I knew you were gonna try somethin’.” Ironhide nodded his helm to indicate the space in front of them, and for the first time Wasp noticed their shadows splayed across the foremost wall. He’d seen everything. Or, no— he couldn’t have been that aware even _with_ his field training. Maybe he’d heard the faint whine of Wasp’s stinger charging, or the sound of his plating shifting. Maybe he knew Wasp well enough to catch the change in his voice…

Maybe it didn’t matter at all _how_ Ironhide had known, because one way or another he had, and this was getting ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. Ironhide was going to win at this rate, and even worse, he was going to be _completely smug_ about it when he did. Wasp jumped to his pedes, standing on the small of Ironhide’s back, and issued his friend a challenging sneer.

“You think you’re pretty smart for that one, don’t you?”

“I think I’m doin’ alright.” Ironhide sounded equally self-assured as he worked himself through another rep. Which one was that? One-fifteen? One-twenty? It didn’t matter anyways, he was _never_ getting to three hundred. One way or another Wasp wasn’t going to let him. The next time Ironhide lowered the both of them towards the ground, Wasp was ready for it, and at the bottom of the motion the minibot stuck one pede out and _stomped_.

“Wasp?”

The momentum was supposed to be working with him. It wasn’t. Ironhide was an immoveable object and lifted his frame back up regardless. Wasp stomped harder, determined to get _something_ out of his efforts.

Ironhide snorted. “It’s not gonna work Wasp. You weigh ‘bout half a ton.”

Another failure. Wasp pursed his lips behind his mouthguard and jumped this time, both pedes slamming square onto the small of Ironhide’s back at the end of his downward stroke.

“Don’t tell _me_ ,” another jump, “what’s not gonna work,” and another. Ironhide wasn’t going anywhere, wasn’t even trying to anymore, and Wasp jumped a few more times in rapid succession out of sheer desperation.

“What the slag are you made of?!”

By the good graces of the AllSpark Ironhide’s arms were at least shaking by now, and the big mech rolled his wide shoulders for a moment to relieve them of the strain.

“All Autobot, mech.” It was the standard answer. He should have seen it coming. Wasp leaned forward to contest it anyways, opening his mouth with a scoff only to be cut off entirely by a _crack_ loud enough that it reverberated through the empty training room.

Silence. Startled, Wasp closed his mouth again and reset his optics. “Was that you?” The question was incredulous.

This time Ironhide was laughing in earnest, big shoulders shaking in effort to keep himself upright with his booming chuckles. Wasp jumped off his friend entirely, a mixture of bewilderment and concern playing on his faceplates.

“Scrap! That sounded like a spinal strut—“ That wasn’t good. No one in the medbays were going to be happy to see them at this time of night. And he had an early meeting he really couldn’t afford to miss sitting in a waiting room, and Ironhide--  “Why are you laughing?!”

Finally, _finally_ the big mech’s arms gave out. Ironhide lowered himself to the floor, still giggling, then rolled onto his back with that big smug grin stuck on his stupid face.

“Aww,” Ironhide cooed and Wasp wanted to smack him for it. “All that sabotage an’ I almost forgot how much you cared about me.”

Wasp scowled. It was true, all things considered, they’d been friends since their days in boot camp, and it’s not like he’d been _trying_ to kill the mech… but it’s not like Ironhide had to go and say it outright either. The mini crossed his arms over his chestplating resolutely, sneer playing at his lips.

“I told you your form was bad.”

“Ya jumped on me.”

He sure had.

“That doesn’t mean much to you, mech.” Which was true, incredible, and kind of infuriating. Ironhide’s strength and grit was what got him a place on Elite Guard missions. “At least it wouldn’t if you knew what you were doing.”

The challenge was in the air once more. A veritable weight between them, and Wasp could see the way it caught in Ironhide’s optic, the same way it always had for as long as they’d known each other.

“’Spose you’re gonna show me how it’s done?”

“Uh, yeah. Get up.”

It was Wasp’s turn, and the mini didn’t waste time, nudging Ironhide to a stand with an impatient pede and hastily occupying his space. He pushed himself into an easy plank and moved through a few perfect reps.

“See the difference? You keep twisting your elbow out like this.” A turn at the shoulder, obvious with Wasp’s oversized shoulder guards, but difficult to avoid with Ironhide’s wider stance. Total rookie mistake.

“Mhm,” Ironhide moved closer, big arms crossed over his wide chest as he looked over his friend. He didn’t look that injured for a guy who’d just had a vehicle jump on his back, but he _was_ amused with something. “You gonna show me three hundred, then?”

 Wasp snickered, “your claim, not mine.” He righted his position and worked through a few more rounds – just to show off a little. “But at least I wouldn’t have a busted shoulder after I was done.” Facts were just facts after all, and Wasp knew what he was good at. It was this; perfect form, perfect track record, perfect night off.

“Dunno, mech,” Ironhide’s voice was low. Suspicious. “Doesn’t seem fair. Usually when you got me doing pushups, I’m doing it with an added _weight on my back_.”

Wasp could have known something was up. He should have known. He did know, in the same way Ironhide had known to guard himself nanokliks before Wasp had tried to zap him with his stingers. Only this time, there was nothing Wasp could do, because at that moment the entire weight of Ironhide’s pede pressed onto his back, pinning him like a bug and threatening to push him to the ground. He was stuck on the upward motion, arms bent underneath him caught between the floor and Ironhide – the immoveable object.

“… Ironhide.” Nothing but revenge. Wasp was exerting all of his effort just to stay upright and the big idiot knew it. “I’m going to slag you.”

“Aw, come on Wasp. I ain’t even trying yet.” To prove his point, Ironhide leaned forward then and his new stance forced even more pressure onto the square of Wasp’s back. The mini spat a curse, and Ironhide relented just a little bit. He was definitely enjoying this. “How’s your elbow working for ya?”

The thing was, Wasp didn’t always lose between them. He didn’t even often lose between them. Sure, Ironhide came out on top when it came to brute force, but Wasp was resourceful; he was clever and practiced, and could usually find a way to beat the big mech just by outsmarting or out _pacing_ him – that’s why he was part of Autobot Command. He was great! They both knew it. Should have known better than to take a bet Ironhide had _offered_.

“You better hope I don’t get up, scrapheap!” Wasp threatened anyways – futilely, “’cause when I do, you’re dead!”

Ironhide just chuckled. “You’re not getting up.”

A nanoklik passed. Two. Three. And when it got past five Wasp stopped bothering to count. His joints were straining with the effort, his arms were shaking underneath him; Ironhide hadn’t moved a fraction.

It took just as big of a mech to surrender as it did to squash your best friend under your fragging pede; “Alright. You win.”

“What’s that?” Ironhide teased, still sturdy as stone. “Didn’t hear ya, Wasp.”

And he claimed he didn’t hold grudges.

“You won! Get off me crankcase!”

All at once the weight on his back came away, and before Wasp could so much as fall over two strong orange servos had found their way under his arms, lifting him gently back to a stand. Well, at least Ironhide could be a good sport about things; Wasp turned around and punched him square in the side.

Ironhide passed a servo over his protoform but Wasp wasn’t certain he’d actually felt the hit. “You deserved that one, pal.” Ironhide reasoned. His smile was gone, but he wasn’t quite frowning either. A moment of clarity before his optics lightened in amusement. “An’ you know, I had to keep it even.”

So maybe he had deserved it.

With nothing left to do but feign annoyance Wasp leaned against his friend by way of apology, resting his helm against the mech’s shoulder-guard and smiling under his facemask when Ironhide draped an arm over him in return. “Right. Then next time how ‘bout you go down two frame classes first? That’s keeping it even.”

 

It’s later still when they slip by the sentry once more on their way out. He’s smiling this time as Ironhide shoots him a grin, and a wave, and a ‘have a good night’ – smirking behind the military cut of his visor. Wasp’s never been able to prove it to himself, but he’s pretty sure they’ve got cameras back there.  

**Author's Note:**

> My favourite Ironwasp is when they just quietly rely and depend on each other and that is definitely the fault of ribbonelle's happy au.


End file.
